


Fire Emblem one-shots

by Dawn_dragon_trombonist (trombonistnicole)



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Blind!Takumi, Brotherly Love, Canonical Character Death, Cuddling & Snuggling, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Injury, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Mild Gore, Nightmares, Non-Explicit Sex, Paranoia, Post-Fire Emblem Fates: Conquest, Post-Fire Emblem Fates: Revelation, Rare Pairings, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2018-12-20 22:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11930157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trombonistnicole/pseuds/Dawn_dragon_trombonist
Summary: Various Fire Emblem one-shots, from angsty to humorous to fluffy. Accepting requests from Fates or Awakening!





	1. Just get along! (Kaze x Jakob)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Corrin's insistence, Kaze and Jakob try to set aside their differences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was shocked that there weren't any Kaze/Jakob fanfics on AO3, so naturally I had to write one.  
> I really hope I'm not the only one who ships this.

Two pairs of equally dark eyes met as they sat across from each other, the air thick with tension. Lady Corrin had noticed the animosity between them and ordered them to spend time together. Spend time together? It wasn't as if they needed to be friends. They could work together just fine on the battlefield, and the time they spent serving Lady Corrin rarely overlapped.

    Both parties found the exercise pointless.

    “Would you like some tea?” Kaze offered, finally breaking the silence. Ah, there it was. The ninja’s palpable respect for all people who weren't murderers, thieves, or anything else of that manner, prevented him from maintaining the cold attitude.

    “I will not be drinking your inferior tea,” Jakob replied.

    A pause. “Lady Corrin wishes for us to get along. You wouldn't want to disappoint her, would you?”

    Jakob folded his hands in his lap, fingers deft from buttling intertwining. “Of course not.”

    “We may get along better if you didn't insult me.”

    “I was merely speaking the truth,” Jakob corrected, accented voice as cool as ever.

    “How can you know if my tea is inferior if you won't even try it?” Kaze countered, grey eyes glimmering with challenge.

    “Quite simply because I make the best tea in the world.”

    “Is that so?”

    Jakob nodded, somehow managing to keep a smug smile off of his face as he did so. “Each cup is perfect for Lady Corrin's needs and wants.”

    “And what of those who _aren't_ Lady Corrin?” Kaze challenged.

    “And why am I making tea for these people, pray tell?”

    Kaze furrowed his brow. “Wh-what do you mean? Why wouldn't you?”

    He shrugged. “I'm not nice, not like you. I don't feel compelled to help everyone whose path I cross.”

    Kaze shook his head looking vaguely disgusted. “I-I can't relate or understand a single thing you just said.”

    “I know. This is why we don't talk,” he explained, face showing distinct irritation. “Are we done here?”

    Kaze sighed in relief. “I thought you'd never ask.”

 

    Several days later, Corrin pointed out that she hadn't seen any improvement. Kaze protested, saying that he fully respected Jakob and would gladly work alongside him whenever necessary.

    Jakob didn't necessarily return the sentiment, but he decided to keep quiet about that.

    Then Corrin asked they both spend time with her, a perfectly reasonable and easily fulfilled request. They didn't have to pay attention to each other.

    About five minutes in, Corrin stood up. “I'm gonna use the restroom.” She left before Kaze or Jakob could reply.

    They were left in an uncomfortable silence.

    “We should try to get along,” Kaze suggested quietly.

    “Why?”

    The ninja sighed. “It would make Lady Corrin happy.”

    Jakob let out a dramatic sigh. “We can _pretend_ to get along. It's not really going to work.” He paused.

    Kaze chewed on his lip, looking pained. “Very well.”

 

    Tricking Lady Corrin into thinking they were friends was more difficult than expected.

    She was rather perceptive. And their attempts at amicable behavior were weak at best.

    “I asked you to get along!” she exclaimed after inviting both to her quarters. “But you're too caught up in manly competitiveness!”

    Kaze lowered his head. “I'm sorry, milady,” he apologized. “We've been immature.”

    She sighed. “I don't care if you're sorry. I care if you _correct_ your behavior. You two are currently tied with Oboro and Hinata for best retainers. I don't want that to change because you're too proud to work together.”

    “Tied for best retainers?” Jakob questioned. “ _Tied_?”

    She shrugged. “I don't know. Something about having a monster crush on your liege makes you work harder or whatever.”

    “And we work hard despite our ability to keep our feelings strictly platonic?” Jakob suggested. “Doesn't that make us better?”

    “I guess,” came her reply. “Although, to be perfectly honest, I'm pretty sure he likes the attention.”

    “Because he's needy little brat,” Jakob muttered.

    Corrin crossed her arms. “That's my little sibling you're talking about,” she scolded.

    “I like all of your other younger siblings better.”

    She furrowed her brow. “What? You've hardly interacted with Leo or Sakura, and you don't seem to like Elise all that much.”

    He shrugged.

    She shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Whatever. Anyway, get along!”

    “I'll do my best, milady,” Kaze murmured.

    “As will I.”

 

    After that talk, their relationship improved. Something about a scolding from Corrin, one of the nicest people either of them had ever met, drove the point home. Kaze began treating Jakob as a friend rather than an ally. Jakob reluctantly stopped thinking of him as a rival. Kaze continued offering things, typically tea or baked goods, to Jakob. The butler began to accept them. Jakob became one of the people to whom Kaze passed unwanted gifts. Jakob accepted those too. Kaze started spending time with Jakob outside of work. Jakob started to enjoy this.

 

    Jakob ran over to Kaze as blood leaked out of the ninja's wound. He had taken a sword straight to the gut. An ally had taken out his attacker, and so the sword remained in him, mostly staunching the bleeding. The fabric of his shirt was stained and torn and his breaths came ragged and slow.

    Jakob got to work healing him. Kaze’s eyes were closed as he tried to ignore the pain, and blood dribbled down his chin from biting his lips. The butler held his staff in one hand, using the other to pry his lips apart. The last thing Kaze needed was to injure himself further.

    Kaze immediately let out a choked whimper, then a full out sob.

    Jakob pulled the sword out and continued his work, trying to ignore Kaze's pained cries. If he couldn't recover… no, Jakob couldn't even entertain the possibility.

    Then his staff broke.

    Without even thinking about it, Jakob ripped off Kaze's scarf and pressed it to the wound, wincing as the sobs worsened. Despite the pressure he was putting on the wound, Jakob could feel hot blood seeping into the fabric.

    “I…” Kaze choked out. “I…” His eyelashes fluttered as unconsciousness threatened him.

    Without moving his hands, Jakob leaned forward to look Kaze in the eyes. “Kaze,” he murmured. “Kaze, stay with me.”

    “I'm… I'm sorry,” he whimpered.

    “Kaze,” Jakob insisted.

    “I'm sorry,” Kaze repeated, reaching a shaking, bloodied hand up to touch Jakob’s face. “I'm sorry that I can't… stay with…”

    Kaze went limp. His arm flopped to the ground and his breathing slowed.

    “Kaze!” Jakob exclaimed. He shouldn't move his hands, but…

    Jakob moved one hand to cup Kaze's cheek and buried his face in his neck, trying to drink in his scent while he was still alive. “Kaze…” he repeated. “Kaze, please.”

    He let out a sob, his tears wetting Kaze's neck. “Kaze, please, just wake up!”

 

    It took twelve hours for Sakura and Elise to allow him into the room. Apparently he would ‘only get in the way’ and was ‘better at other things.’

    Afterwards, he kept a largely silent vigil at the ninja's bedside for nearly five days, with occasional visits from Saizo, Corrin, and groups of girls that Jakob chased out. Corrin was fine with, even relieved by, Jakob's sudden dedication to his fellow retainer.

    So when Kaze's dark eyes at last fluttered open, Jakob was the first to see them.

    “Kaze,” Jakob murmured, eyes brimming with tears. Gods, he had cried more in the past week than he had in more than two years leading up to it. Maybe more.

    Kaze's reply was indiscernible, but his confusion was obvious.

    Jakob had to coax Kaze back down when he tried to sit up. “Shh, shh, it's ok,” he reassured him, placing his other hand on his cheek.

    “Wh-where am I?” Kaze wondered, looking around.

    “We're back at Castle Krackenburg right now,” Jakob explained. “You're safe. Don't worry. We defeated the bandits.”

    Kaze touched Jakob's cheek and Jakob took his hand gently. “I was so worried,” he mumbled.

    Jakob furrowed his brow. “ _You_ were worried? How do you think _I_ felt?”

    “I thought you didn't care.”

    Jakob shook his head, frowning. “Of course I care!” He paused. “Do you have any idea how bad it was? How much I worried?” He sighed. “Kaze, I can't imagine a life without you.”

    Kaze gave him a tight smile. “I count you among my closest friends,” he agreed.

 

    Two days later, Kaze was at last allowed to leave. This was both a relief and a stressor to Jakob, because now the ninja could run away or go missing, leaving him to appear a stalker.

    Two weeks later, Kaze turned to Jakob as the butler made tea.

    “You're acting strange,” he commented.

    Jakob returned the gaze. “Strange?”

    He nodded. “You seem intent on following me, unnecessarily gentle with me and my feelings, and altogether more concerned about _my_ safety than that of Lady Corrin.”

    Jakob frowned. “Now that's simply not true. Lady Corrin is my inspiration, my liege, my reason for fighting and for living. You… you are my friend.”

    Kaze smiled. “I'm relieved to hear it. I was concerned I would have to remind you of your duties.” He clinked his mug against Jakob's. “To friendship.”

    “To… to loyalty.”

 

    They had their first spat in several weeks. Somehow, a quiet disagreement over Saizo's character had turned into a full-on argument, with yelling and furrowed brows and balled fists.

    At some point during said fight, Kaze had ended up with his back pressed up against the wall. Jakob got right in his personal space, leaning in close and whispering harsh words.

    And then they were kissing. Neither knew who initiated it, but their lips were touching. It was an awkward, inexperienced kiss, the type that could only occur between people who had never kissed before. 

     They made up for it in enthusiasm.

    Jakob eventually had to break off his exploration of Kaze's mouth to catch his breath.

    Kaze stared at him for a moment, eyes wide with panic. He pushed Jakob off of him before the butler could comment and fled.

 

    The ninja did everything in his power to avoid Jakob, even picking up on his brother's habit of sticking to the shadows. It worked rather well, and neither saw each other for nearly two weeks.

    Jakob felt like a he had a gaping hole in his chest. Somehow the ninja had wormed his way into his heart and going cold turkey on his presence was torture.

    Though Jakob didn't know it, Kaze was in his own hell. He missed Jakob just as much, if not more, but couldn't do anything about it. Not if he didn't want… no, he couldn't even consider the possibility.

 

    Corrin couldn't stand the pain her retainers were in. And she knew the solution.

    Her plan required Leo’s assistance. Years before, her younger sibling had figured out how to create vines that would keep a door closed with Brynhildr. What use Leo had for such information, she had a couple of ideas, but… well, that wasn't the point.

    Corrin’s apparition called for her retainers, seated on her bed as she awaited them. Even though they weren't on speaking terms, neither would deny their liege a request.

    The illusion disappeared and thick vines covered the door.

    “That should hold for a couple hours,” Leo informed Corrin. “If you need anything else, I'll be in my room. And it better be important.”

    With that, the mage left.

 

    “What the…” Kaze wondered at his current situation. Corrin had been in her room, but had disappeared the instant the door closed. The door was unlocked, but would not open.

    They were stuck.

    Jakob fiddled with a glowing leaf poking through the crack in the door. “This is Lord Leo’s handiwork.”

    Why? What stake did the mage have in this? It wasn't as if either of them were at all familiar with the 20-year-old.

    Lady Corrin.

    Lady Corrin had noticed and roped Lord Leo into the matter.

    “We should talk,” Jakob stated finally.

    Kaze sighed and nodded.

    “Did what I did upset you?” he questioned. He inwardly shuddered at the thought of doing something nonconsensual with Kaze, albeit unintentionally.

    Kaze paused. “Not in and of itself. But what it means… that bothers me.” He lowered his gaze.

    “You mean a relationship.”

    Kaze lifted his head to look at Jakob. “I mean me being gay.”

    Jakob crossed his arms. “It's not as though anyone has a problem with that anymore.”

    Kaze lowered his head again. “My family… my brother would have a problem with it,” he admitted quietly.

    “If your brother loves you, he'll learn to accept you,” Jakob asserted. He lifted Kaze's chin with an outstretched hand. He looked him in the eyes. “And if he doesn't… well, I think everyone else will have something to say about it.”

    “You think… you think we could… we could work? As a couple?”

    “I would like us to,” Jakob replied. “If you will have me, I would very much like to be your romantic partner.”

    Kaze chewed on his lip. “Well… I would like that too.” He didn't want to voice his misgivings, lest he ruin his chances.

    Jakob dropped his hand before slipping it into Kaze's. “Good.”

    “Wait,” Kaze protested. “Can we… can we keep this a secret?”

    “We're telling Lady Corrin. Other than that, I don't care.”

    Kaze smiled. “Very well.” He walked over to the door and tried it again. “Milady? We've worked out our differences,” he called.

    “Alright, I'll get Leo.”

 

    Leo had been irritable about being disturbed, but had consented to letting them out after a bit of persuasion.

    “I don't want to deal with this again,” Leo muttered after they had been let out. “Work out your issues on your own from now on.”

    “Thanks, little br--Er, Leo,” Corrin murmured, giving the mage a hug.

    Leo stiffened in the hug, but awkwardly put an arm around her back after a second. “Yeah, no problem.”

    The door closed with a click when Leo exited the room.

    “So?” Corrin asked, looking at her retainers.

    “What do you mean, milady?” Kaze questioned.

    “So, what'd you two talk about?” The excited grin on her face suggested that she knew very well what they had talked about.

    “Well, we determined…” he mumbled, lowering his head.

    “We have begun a romantic relationship,” Jakob finished succinctly, apparently not interested in listening to Kaze's embarrassed retelling.

    Corrin let out a high-pitched squeal. “That's… that's awesome!” she exclaimed, face lighting up.

    Kaze crossed his arms. “Yeah, uh… we're keeping it a secret.” He didn't look particularly happy.

    She cocked her head. “How… how come?”

    Kaze sighed, closing his eyes. “Saizo… he wouldn't approve.”

    She folded her arms across her chest with a frown. “Well… well that's not cool of him!”

    The ninja shrugged. “I don't know what to tell you. It's in our culture.” He let up out a heavy sigh. “I'm a… disgrace.” A tear slid down his cheek.

    The princess embraced her retainer. “I'm sorry… I'm so, so sorry.” She held him at arm’s length. “You are _not_ a disgrace, you hear me?”

    He leaned forward into her embrace and nuzzled his face into her neck. Tears streamed down onto her collar as silent sobs wracked his body. He couldn't believe that _this_ was when he broke down, in front of Lady Corrin and when he should be smiling. But no, he was shamelessly crying into his liege’s neck.

    But maybe the tears were good for him.

    Maybe it was a good thing that all of these pent up feelings, all of the years of shame, shame of who he was, all of the _pain_ he had felt, all of it was pouring out of him in front of his closest friends. No, not friends. Friend and _boy_ friend.

    Boyfriend.

    That would take getting used to.

 

    It took two days before Kaze felt guilty about keeping such a big secret from his twin. It was souring his moods, slowing his work, and generally making him unhappy.

    Needless to say, people noticed. _Everyone_ noticed. Girls in the street commented that he seemed downright gloomy. He didn't take to Corrin's orders with much enthusiasm. Kagero caught him crying. He snapped at Jakob. He avoided his brother. Everything he explained away, but almost nobody believed him. They didn't challenge him, but he could see their disbelief on their faces.

    A week and a half after they had gotten together, Kaze had taken to cuddling with Jakob frequently, usually at night and in Jakob's bed.

    On one such night, Kaze looked at his partner carefully. “Jakob,” he finally asked. “Am I being childish?”

    “For what specifically?”

    “F-for reacting so strongly to all of this,” he mumbled, draping an arm over the butler’s chest.

    “No,” Jakob replied. “However, you are being unnecessarily self-deprecating. You should not feel guilty for defending yourself.”

    Kaze sighed. His partner was wearing a rare face, genuine concern rather than his typical smile. Of course he would think that. The circle of people the butler cared about was small. Kaze, on the other hand, cared about _everyone_. No, he wasn't Silas, but he still felt responsible for other people. If Selena, a total stranger, was crying, he would do anything in his power to help her. Jakob would walk away.

    Whose approach was better? Was it better to dedicate oneself to a select few, or was it better to try to help everyone?

    Honestly, Kaze sometimes wished he could just _not care_. But it wasn't possible.

    But right now, all he had to care about was himself and Jakob. Everyone else… they could wait.


	2. It's not weird (Chrom x Male!Robin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's some gay Chrobin action. It's a lot more lighthearted than the first one.

    Robin knocked on Chrom’s door and waited for his answer. He bounced awkwardly on his heels.

    “Come in,” Chrom replied slowly, almost sleepily. To his credit, it  _ was  _ before 6:30 AM, so he may have just woken up.

    He entered the room. “Hey, Chrom,” he greeted. He awkwardly hovered, unsure where, or if, he should sit.

    Chrom patted the spot next to him on the bed. “Sit down,” he offered. 

    Robin obliged, the bed dipping slightly at his added weight. He was surprised at their sudden close proximity, but he didn't particularly mind.

    Chrom looked like he was about to fall asleep, blinking frequently and leaning forward. “So, about Plegia,” he mumbled.

    Robin nudged him. “You look like you're about to fall back asleep. Should I come back?”

    He shook his head. “Don't worry, 'm fine.”

    Robin chewed on his lip. “Chrom, we were going to talk about your speech for the upcoming festival.”

    “Yeah, Plegia’s making an appearance,” he muttered. 

    He chuckled. “Chrom, that's just simply not true. I'm going to leave and come back.” Robin yawned. “I might take a little nap, too.” He stood up.

    “No reason to leave,” Chrom mumbled, laying back down.

    Robin furrowed his brow. “What?”

    “You don't have to leave,” he repeated, patting the bed next to where he was resting.

    “Chrom, are you ok? You're acting like you want to… share a bed with me.”

    Chrom put on the most serious face he could given how sleepy he was. “Robin, I want us to be so close, it's not weird to share a bed.”

    Robin sighed. Suddenly, his bed seemed very far away. “All right,” he relented, and lied down next to his friend.

 

    Chrom, Robin, and Frederick were making their way to Regna Ferox for a meeting when it hit. Suddenly, dark clouds had covered the evening sky and rain began to pour down in sheets.

    Chrom grabbed Robin's hand and pulled him underneath a tree for shelter. 

    “Milord, what of the lightning?” Frederick protested, horrified at the thought of Chrom hiding under a tree in a thunderstorm.

    “Those are nimbostratus clouds,” Robin remarked. “They don't create lightning. They just rain.”

    Frederick furrowed his brow before sitting down underneath another tree.

    Chrom pulled Robin closer to him, presumably for warmth. 

    “What are you doing?” Robin asked as Chrom wrapped his arms around Robin's body. 

    “Staying warm.”

    Robin paused, the silence tense. “Chrom,” he finally replied. “We're basically cuddling.”

    “I want us to be so close it's not weird to cuddle,” Chrom murmured, nuzzling into Robin's hair.

    Robin sighed, somewhere between relieved and confused. “All right,” he agreed, scooting partially onto the Exalt’s lap.

    “You're warm,” Chrom murmured after a couple minutes, his words ghosting on the skin of Robin's neck.

    “So are you,” he mumbled. 

    The storm didn't let up for another three hours, but the two didn't let each other get cold.

    He never complained, but Frederick was a cold, salty knight.

 

    “You smell awful,” Chrom commented.

    Robin frowned. He was nursing a broken arm, courtesy of a band of ruffians. The three had made it out fine, but they lacked a healer.

    This left Robin in a makeshift sling.

    “I can't bathe very easily,” he admitted. “With my dominant hand disabled, my normal activities are… limited.”

    Chrom nodded. 

    The silence was palpable.

    “Do you want me to help you?” Chrom offered.

    Robin stared at him. “What do you mean?”

    “Do you want me to wash you?”

    “Isn't that a little… unusual?”

    Chrom put his hand on Robin's. “I want us to be so close, it's not weird to bathe each other.”

    “Ok,” Robin agreed. He must have smelled truly  _ awful _ for Chrom to point it out. 

    Chrom walked with him to the bathing tent. He helped the tactician undress before stripping himself.

    At Chrom’s nudge, Robin sat down in the bath. Chrom retrieved the soap and began to run his soapy fingers over Robin's back. It was beginning to feel more like a massage when he shifted his attention to his arms. He made his way to Robin's other side and began washing his chest. His hands migrated lower and he began washing Robin's thighs.

    To his utter shame, Robin felt himself harden.

    “Do you want me to…” Chrom asked.

    Robin stared at him. “What?”

    “... help you out?”

    Robin reddened. “Chrom, I couldn't ask you to do that.”

    “I want us to be so close, we can ask each other for sexual favors and it's not weird,” Chrom murmured without a trace of irony in his voice.

    Robin's hips involuntarily moved toward Chrom's hands. He chewed on his lip before replying, “Please do.”

    Robin was expecting a quick handjob, but that is not what he got. He shuddered as he felt something distinctly warm and wet encircle him.

    He didn't have many memories, but Robin suspected that none of them compared to the Exalt giving him an exceptional blowjob.

    Chrom didn't pull back when Robin reached his climax. He sat up when it was over, semen dripping down his chin.

    “I… I…” Robin murmured, trying to find the words to describe how he was feeling, but none came to mind. The experience, both in the moment and in retrospect, was incredible. Robin had never felt such pleasure in his entire life.

    Chrom continued on as though he hadn't just blown his tactician, running shampoo through his hair.

    Robin's head slumped forward as he let Chrom finish cleaning him.

 

    Robin suspected the incident had awoken some primal desire of his. Suddenly, his thoughts were filled with Chrom in various compromising positions, dirty fantasies he had never dared dream before then.

    Robin knocked on Chrom's door back in Ylisstol, shifting uncomfortably.

    “Come in,” Chrom replied.

    The scene was the same as when they had first shared a bed. Chrom sat on the edge of his bed, which was made, if sloppily so. Robin stood in the doorway, shifting awkwardly. This time, he made the first move, making his way over to the bed and sitting down.

    “What can I do for you?” Chrom asked, smiling at him.

    The smile seemed so innocent it made Robin feel disgusting. “Maybe this was a bad idea,” he whispered to himself.

    “Huh?”

    “Oh, nothing,” Robin replied, his face quickly turning crimson.

    “You want something,” Chrom guessed.

    Robin nodded, visibly embarrassed.

    “What is it?”

    He sighed. Just out with it, right? Just be honest and straight- well, bad choice of words, but… He took a couple of deep breaths before finally murmuring, “I want us to be so close it's not weird to have sex.”

    It was Chrom's turn to stare at him, plate-eyed.

    “Too far? Oh, I'm so sorry, I'll just-”

    Chrom collected himself quickly and pushed Robin onto the bed with a surprising amount of force.

    “Gods,” he whispered, staring Chrom in the eyes. The tactician closed the distance between them and captured the Exalt in a kiss.

    “Gods,” Chrom agreed when they separated for air.

    Chrom blowing him in the bath was nothing compared to this.

 

    Robin nuzzled his face into Chrom's neck one night, about two weeks later.

    “Robin?”

    “Yes?”

    He shifted to look at him. “I want us to be so close, it's not weird that I love you.”

    Robin's breath caught in his throat. “W-what?”

    “Too far?” Chrom whimpered, eyes filled with horror.

    “I… I want us to be so close, I can propose to you and it's not weird,” Robin replied, placing a small box into his hand.

    Chrom slipped the ring onto his finger. “I want us to be so close,  _ nothing  _ is weird between us.”

    “Nothing?”

    He chuckled. “Unless something is just plain weird.”

    “Can we keep saying that, though?” he requested with a smile.

    “Gladly.”

 

    Robin followed Chrom over to Lissa. She was seated in some kind of office, stringing beads in a seemingly random pattern.

    “Hey, Lissa,” Chrom greeted.

    “Hi, Chrom. Hi, Robin,” she replied.

    Chrom chewed on his lip as they sat down. “I- we have something to tell you.” His face was stony as he said this, concerned he wouldn't be able to continue if he let his emotions show.

    She furrowed her brow. “Yeah?” The concern on her face suddenly matched his.

    The three sat in tense silence as he gathered the courage to tell her. 

    Finally, after nearly a minute, Robin sighed and answered for him. “We're getting married.”

    “You-you're getting married? Like, the two of you? To each other?” she asked.

    Robin nodded. Chrom stared at the table.

    “That's weird,” she mumbled.

    The tactician slipped his hand into Chrom's hand, fingers intertwining with his. 

    “W-weird?” Chrom choked out.

    Robin scowled at her. “No, it's not,” he growled.

    She closed her eyes. “You're both… guys.”

    “So?” Robin pressed, scowl deepening. 

    “So that's weird,” she repeated. 

    Chrom continued to study the wood, eyes following the swirly patterns and avoiding his sister's critical gaze. He had  _ known  _ this was going to happen, was  _ afraid _ of this happening, but… well, that were getting married. They had to tell her.

    Robin stood up, and Chrom just followed his lead. “I suggest you take some time to adjust your viewpoint.”

 

    A couple weeks after they married, Chrom turned to Robin.

    “I want us to be so close, it's not weird to get a surrogate,” he murmured, linking his hand with his.

    Robin chuckled. “Why would that be weird?”

    “I-I just wanted to say it,” he admitted.

    “I want us to be so close, I can get a surrogate of my own and it's not weird,” Robin countered.

    “Why would that be weird?” Chrom asked, laughing.

    Robin leaned his head on Chrom’s shoulder. “I love you,” he murmured.

    Chrom turned his head, nose in Robin's messy white hair. “Love you too.” He kissed the top of Robin's head.

 

    When Lucina finally told them the truth, she seemed very confused.

    “Where is my mother?” she asked, looking at Chrom, then at me, then back at Chrom.

    “Ylisstol,” he replied. After a moment, he continued, “Why?”

    She furrowed her brow. “Why wouldn't I want to know where my mother is?”

    His eyebrows crinkled. “Y-you were raised with Robin… right?”

    “What are you talking about?”

    “You… you weren't raised with Robin as your father?”

    “No!  _ You're  _ my father,” she repeated, her expression growing increasingly panicked.

    Robin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lucina, I don't know if we… changed the future, but we're your fathers. The two of us.”

    “Robin and I are… married,” Chrom added. “So, we're both your father. Your mother was a… surrogate.”

    She looked at Chrom, then at Robin, then back at Chrom. “O-OK. I understand.” She gave Robin an awkward hug, still unused to the idea.

    Chrom placed his hand on his daughter's shoulder, smiling gently.

 

    Ultimately, Lissa gave up on trying to ‘straighten out’ her brother. Their marriage went off without a hitch, and the two were nominated for ‘cutest couple’ in the Shepherds. (They won, but their title was eventually usurped following the children's appearance by Owain and Inigo. After this, Lissa accepted being the only straight person in her immediate family.)

 

    When all was said and done, and Grima was dead and Robin was back, the Exalt and his loving husband were free to live out their lives with two daughters named Morgan and two daughters named Lucina. 

     Despite what anyone else had to say, it was not weird.


	3. Caged and Broken (Takumi & Ryoma)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Conquest, everyone is still alive, but Takumi's just not the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this got so depressing. It wasn't meant to, but here you go.

Vines wrapped around his body, threatening to crush his windpipe. The plants glowed a faint green, and they covered his body in seconds. Needless to say, this was the work of Brynhildr. The Fujin Yumi, clutched in his hand, was useless to him.

    Said tome’s owner stepped out from the shadows. He wore on his face a smug smirk, but his eyes were filled with evil. 

    “Look at you,” the mage taunted. “So weak and defenseless. This is why nobody likes you.” He leaned down to look at him. “Because you're useless.” 

 

    Maniacal laughter filled his head, its source standing over him. The man was tall, at least from his angle, with a gold half-mask and a missing eye. He had long, black hair that hung limp from his head, greasy beyond redemption. He had a strange headpiece and extravagant clothing.

    “Guess what?” the man offered.

    He didn't grace him with a response. He was creepy and made him feel uncomfortable, made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. His voice, his laughter, his attire, it scared him. 

    “Lord Ryoma has decided that you're  _ all  _ mine. I can do whatever I want with you! Isn't that lovely?”

    He most certainly did not think it was lovely. His brother… abandoning him to this monster? His brother, leaving him to be used and abused for some sadist’s entertainment. His brother, not loving him enough to care? So no, he did not think it was lovely.

    Especially when the dark mage did whatever he wanted.

 

    The world was dark, completely dark, like when his hands grasped around and felt nothing at all, couldn't find it.

    Then he felt hands. Grasping. Feeling. Grabbing him. All over, like they were sprouting from the ground and coming from the sky and slowly smothering him in their numbers. He felt hands grab his arms and legs, wrapping around his forehead, pulling his mouth open, going down his throat. They slipped under his clothes, fingernails scratching at his bare skin. They poked and pulled with grubby fingers and he was just drowning, drowning in hands.

 

    He was falling, falling, falling, away from the man, the mage, his supposed friend and brother that pushed him off, watched him scream in fear and smiled, smiled as he fell forever. The wind rushed around him, drowning out his cries and chilling him to the bone. 

 

    He cradled Ryoma in his arms, watching the life fade out of his eyes, hot blood soaking the floor, his lap, his soul. Tears streamed down his cheeks as his beloved, his brother, was going away, the bright blue and white of his soul draining away as sobs echoed through the hall.

 

    He was alone, alone in his bed in the black, and there was nothing to be found, no smooth wood or magic light. He could feel the tears on his cheeks, the ache in his chest. Ryoma wasn't dead… right? Gods, how he needed to check, but he couldn't, not here, not now, when he was scared and vulnerable and helpless. He couldn't wander through the halls of Castle Shirasagi without getting lost, without losing his way in the darkness.

    But he couldn't be the weak, helpless, second prince, either. With that, he wiped away his tears and left his room.

    He was lost within minutes. The walls became strange and unfamiliar, and, Gods was he scared. He was lost in the dark, who knows where, with no way to find where he was going. He was just lost and lost and confused and scared and he just wanted to go back to bed, hide in his room and cry, even go back to his dreams, unless this was a dream and he was still in his bed, scared of nothing except his nightmares.

    His hand grazed over a soft tapestry, with nice embroidery, all Hoshidan symbols and sakura as he felt at it, running his hands over it, trying to ground himself, but maybe it just his blankets and he was still in bed.

    He slid to the ground, legs giving out. He rested his head against the tapestry, eyes wide but unseeing. He choked back a sob. He shouldn't show weakness, even as he curled into himself, hugged his knees to his chest, just so useless and upset.

    He heard footsteps, loud and certain. “Takumi?”

    It was Ryoma. His voice was always booming, always confident and cheerful.

    “Hey,” he greeted, trying to compose himself, not appear like a pathetic weakling. If he ever wanted Ryoma’s realest… well, he wouldn't get them by sitting on the floor and crying. He wouldn't get them by admitting that he had gone completely blind, or that he was tortured by nightmares that got worse when his yumi wasn't there. He wouldn't win him over with submission, with instability or insecurity. He… he had to be strong. To stand on his own.

    With or without the Fujin Yumi.

    “Hey, are you ok?” Ryoma knelt down in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Is… is it bothering you again?”

    The possession. He was referring to the possession, how it wreaked havoc on his mind, on his soul, how he was just a piece of a man trying to fill up his empty husk of a body.

    He nodded. Maybe if he acted like it was the possession, his family would continue to follow him around, guide him to his yumi. “Can I… can I have my yumi back?” It had been taken from him after an episode, but now… now he wouldn't be able to do anything. Now he was totally defenseless.

    Ryoma sighed. “It's better… it's better if we wait.”

    They were going to withhold his eyes from him. Now, granted, they didn't know that he was blind now, but still. He was going to continue to be sightless until his brother deemed him fit to wield it.

    Stupid possession, that took away his family's respect and replaced it with pity, took away his future, his sanity, his happiness, his eyes. Stupid possession that made him feel worthless and unloved, even when his family was holding him and telling him how amazing he was, stupid possession that made people simultaneously fear and feel sorry for him.

    “I understand,” Takumi mumbled, lowering his head. A tear rolled down his cheek.

    “Hey, hey, hey,” Ryoma reassured, taking Takumi into his arms. “It's ok, it's ok, we've got you, you're safe, we love you.”

    Takumi looked up at him through tearful eyes. “R-really? You love me?” He knew it, didn't doubt it anymore. But he wanted to hear it, a thousand times over until the stupid possession would lose its hold and he would be free.

    “Yes,” Ryoma confirmed. “Yes, Takumi, we love you. We love you so much. You're my little brother, my perfect little brother that I'm going to protect forever, ok? You're loved, you're loved so much you can't even imagine. Don't ever worry about it. And I'll tell you this as many times as you need, until you smile, until you're happy and free and you know how special you are.”

    Takumi let out a breath, tired of holding it in. He cried into a part of his chest that wasn't armored. He hugged back, sobbing uncontrollably. 

    Ryoma lifted Takumi up- he had lost an unhealthy amount of weight- and carried him to his room. He set him down gently on the bed and sat down on the floor.

    “Are you going to tell me what's going on?”

    Takumi sighed. Hey, he'd seen him at his worst… whatever. He couldn't keep this up.

    “Yes. I… after the whole me being possessed thing, after I was myself again… I lost my eyesight,” he admitted.

    Ryoma shifted. “You're… blind?” Oh Gods, he sounded angry, angry at how useless his brother had become.

    “Yes, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know I'm… I've become weak, and I-”

    “I'm so sorry,” Ryoma interrupted. “It's ok, it's not your fault, it's our fault for not noticing, ok?”

    Takumi didn't know why his family kept taking the fall for his mistakes, but… it was strangely comforting, knowing that someone else cared.

    “The… the Fujin Yumi… it gives me my sight back,” he mumbled. “I can't see color anymore, anything except blue, but…”

    “And we've been keeping it from you.”

    “It's… it's always made my nightmares a little less scary,” he added.

    Ryoma stroked Takumi's hair. “You know what? Don't worry about it. I'll get your Yumi and you can feel safe and see again, ok?”

    Takumi nodded numbly.

    When Ryoma returned, he could see it glowing in his hands. It was always visible, no matter what, so… well, it was a comfort.

    And when Ryoma set the Fujin Yumi in his hands, Takumi saw the love in his eyes.

    “I love you, big brother.”

    “I love you too.”


	4. Getting dirty (Takumi/Leo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takumi drags his best friend into a hiking trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some fluff to make up for... whatever it was that happened last chapter.

    It was early morning, with the sun peeking over the horizon and lighting up the sky a brilliant mixture of red, pink, and purple. Everything seemed to be just waking up- Leo included. So he wasn't particularly enjoying being dragged up a mountain by his best friend, who insisted that it would be fun.

    Leo was starting to think that Takumi was just as much a sadist as Niles.

    “Takumi… can we… rest… a minute?” Leo requested, panting heavily.

    The archer turned around. “Already? We haven't even reached the foothills.”

    Leo gave him a scowl.

    “Alright, alright,” Takumi agreed. He gestured to a large rock, which was clearly rather wet and covered in moss.

    “Really?” Leo questioned, looking at it disgustedly.

    Takumi rolled his eyes. “Fine, princess.” He took off his outer jacket, which was tan and frayed and had clearly seen better days, and laid it out over the rock. “Better?”

    Even if he was just mocking him, Takumi had just displayed a rather large display of selflessness. Risking spending the entire day wet and dirty, just to make Leo more comfortable. For some reason, even though they had been friends for months, Leo was still surprised when Takumi was nice to him. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not a princess."

    Takumi rolled his eyes. "Just sit down so we can go. Use the coat or don't use the coat."

    Leo sighed and sat down. Hey, it was going to make him more comfortable in the long run. It was just... embarrassing in the present. “Why would you dirty and wet your coat to make me more comfortable?”

    Takumi laughed, an actual laugh more than just a quick chuckle. “You're joking, right? It's going to get much dirtier and much wetter.”

    The mage furrowed his brow. He was already uncomfortable, with mud squishing beneath his boots as he walked, with all the bugs, with the moisture in the air that made it just slightly chillier. How would it be once he was dirty and wet?

    Takumi recognized his unease. “Don't worry, I'll carry you across the river.” He smirked at him.

    They were going to wade through a river? Was he mad? Did he want them to both catch colds? And besides that, how _dare_ he condescend like that? He could walk on his own feet! 

    “You ready to go?”

    Leo jolted out of his thoughts. “Oh, y-yeah, sorry.” He stood up and handed Takumi his jacket, which was in fact covered in dirt and moss and was soaked all the way through in parts.

    He donned it, either not noticing or intentionally ignoring the changes. “Come on!”

    Leo had no idea how he had this much energy in the morning given his sleeping habits.

 

    When they got to their destination, a flowered ridge part way up the mountain, the sun was high in the sky. Leo would confess total responsibility, as he was constantly asking to stop and rest, when Takumi seemed to have unlimited energy.

    “Just sit down,” he urged, spreading out a  blanket on the grass, which was remarkably dry and clean. He would have to ask Takumi the fabric used to make his pack. Thanks to Takumi's efforts, he had stayed mostly clean, but he was still soaked from wading across the river (did Takumi really expect him to agree to being carried?). His simple, distinctly Hoshidan clothing was, however, perfectly intact.

     He felt a little bad getting the blanket all wet, but... well, these things can be cleaned.

    Takumi’s clothing did not fare as well. It acquired three tears, all received while cutting away branches to better clear Leo’s path (very unnecessary). He was also still sopping wet from the waist down from wading across the river. There were twigs and leaves stuck in his hair, and an entire sleeve was covered in mud.

   He got out two boxes, which, upon opening, Leo discovered were lunch boxes. The food- rice, poultry, and vegetables- was tightly and efficiently packed, with almost no room to jostle around. His was clearly done with great care, while Takumi's was thrown together.

    Leo began eating, grateful for the lessons in eating with chopsticks Takumi had given him. “This is very good,” he commented.

    The archer smiled. “Really? I'm glad you like it. I cooked it myself.”

    “You can cook?”

    “Of course! What would happen if I couldn't, and I got trapped in the mountains? I wouldn't be able to eat!”

    “What about fruits and vegetables?”

    Takumi rolled his eyes. “That's not healthy. But that's also not the point. The point is that you're enjoying your bento.”

    Leo smiled at him. Even though it was also a little gross, he thought that Takumi looked beautiful like this, with his ponytail messed up and with dirt on his cheeks and with mud all over his torn clothing. It turned from gross to beautiful thanks to the grin on his face, earnest and friendly and warm and happy.

    And the fluttering in his heart didn't hurt, either.

    Leo was done eating too soon, far too soon, because then they would go and the moment would be ruined, even though Takumi probably didn't even realize that there was a moment happening, although honestly Leo was starting to think that he was the one having misconceptions on their relationship.

    “Hey, it seems like you want to hang out here a while longer,” Takumi commented, studying Nohr’s second prince. “Is that correct?”

    “It's… it's lovely here,” Leo replied. ‘ _You're lovely_ ,’ he thought. ‘ _You're the one that is making this enjoyable.’_

    “Fair enough.” Takumi shifted so that he was laying on his back the grass, then turned his head to look at Leo. “So… worth it, right?”

     _To see you resting in the grass, with your hair messed up and a smile on your face?_ “Yes, it was worth it. Even though I'm soaked."

    "You're fault." Even with the teasing, there seemed to be kind of moment, a moment thatseemed to last an eternity, his eyes and Takumi's eyes meeting, a gaze filled with love, pure and unadulterated meeting one of contentment. The archer didn't seem to see it, see his friend's non-platonic affection, see him screaming “I love you!” with his eyes, with his gestures, with his every touch and word.

    Gods, he was so in love.

 

    Leo seemed to be receptive to many of Takumi's moves. Granted, he was probably thinking of everything as acts of a friend, from warm smiles and kind words to cutting away branches and offering to carry him across a frigid river. Gods was he uncomfortable, but with Leo… well, he could forget it all as soon as he saw him happy. The archer was so worried he would hate the whole trip, wouldn't appreciate everything he was doing, would hate the food, would be angry at him for his failed attempt at a date. And would hate Takumi for 'forcing' him to get wet.

    Of course, it couldn't really fail if it wasn't a date. The mage didn't seem to think it was a date, so Takumi could always just pass it off as a friendly trip into the mountains.

    Then their eyes met. Leo had the most beautiful eyes Takumi had ever seen. They were a deep chocolate, with hints of red and orange. His expression was one of… well, it was hard to tell. He was never good at reading people, least of all Nohrians to whom lying was second nature. But whatever the expression was, Leo wore it perfectly. That was the case with every facial expression. No matter the emotion, be it subtle or dramatic, Leo was no less gorgeous. His smile set Takumi's heart aflutter. His grimace was adorable. Even when he was sad, Leo was magnificent, though Takumi wanted to hold him and stroke his hair until he ceased to be distressed.

    Without thinking about it, Takumi placed his calloused muddy hand in Leo's clean and smooth hand. Even as he realized he was dirtying his beloved, he couldn't bear to let go, lest Leo recognize how unusual the situation was and push him away.

 

    When Takumi linked his hand with Leo's, the mage didn't even register that it was covered in mud. All he could think about was that Takumi was holding his hand and looking at him and then he knew, he knew that his feelings were returned, even as his heart pounded and he felt an all-too-familiar ache in his chest.

    He forgot all his misgivings about soiling his clothing and moved, shifting his position until he was on top of him, his full body pressed against him. He knew it was a foolish and likely unwelcome move as soon as he did it, and immediately regretted it.

    That is, until Takumi pulled his face down with one hand without releasing the other and kissed him breathless.

    Neither of them knew how to express themselves in that moment, didn't know what to say or do as they overanalyzed the situation.

    Finally, Takumi broke the silence. “Should we talk about this, or do you want to just keep making out?”

    A part of him knew that they should talk about it, that they should figure out what all of this meant, but…

    This time, he initiated the kiss.

 

    “Should we talk about this?” Leo once they parted. “What all this means?”

    Takumi shrugged. “Do you want to talk about it?”

    “I mean… we should, right?”

    “Well, I was going to give you something but then… well, that happened,” he mumbled.

    “What were you going to give to me?”

    Takumi opened the pack again, the one he had adamantly refused Leo access. He sifted through it until he pulled out a box. A small box, a little like a jewelry box but slightly different from the ones in Nohr. It was probably just a-

    Takumi dropped to his knee and extended it, opening it to reveal a delicate gold ring with pink and white gemstones embedded in it. “I was going to give you this,” he replied, giving Leo a nervous smile. “Do you want it?”

    Leo felt his face grow hot and his heart pounded in his throat. “Gods, yes.”

    “I'd slip it on your finger but we'd just get it muddy,” Takumi chuckled.

    “Give it to me later, once we're all clean,” Leo suggested.

    Takumi grinned. “I can't wait to bathe with you.” 

 

      Leo's earlier cheer was quickly replaced by irritability as he trekked back down the mountain in wet pants.


	5. Crush (Kiragi x Dwyer)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So here's another tag that needed to exist. I don't know how I ended up doing rarepairs, but here we are.  
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurs to me that I should put this down somewhere. I don't want to flood the tags or anything, but here's all the parent ships:  
> Niles x M!Corrin  
> Takumi x Leo  
> Xander x Mozu  
> Camilla x Keaton  
> Elise x Odin  
> Ryoma x Scarlet  
> Hinoka x Subaki  
> Sakura x Kaze  
> Azura x Jakob  
> Laslow x Selena  
> Saizo x Kagero  
> Effie x Benny  
> Hinata x Hana  
> Kaden x Felicia  
> Silas x Rinkah  
> Hayato x Nyx  
> Azama x Setsuna

    “Father?” Kiragi called as he wandered around in their chambers, bare feet padding in near silence on the soft carpet. The four resided in Nohr, the newly light kingdom. They lived in Castle Krackenburg, their private chambers consisting of a family room, a master bedroom, a den, a study, and two bedrooms for the two children. ‘Children’ was a bit of a strong word. Kiragi was nearing sixteen years old, and Forrest was already sixteen and a half. They were children in the sense that they were somebody's offspring, the same argument used on Shiro whenever he whined about being treated like a kid, or on Ophelia when she was unsure of herself (somehow, being the child of two ‘chosen ones’ made her feel better), or on Dwyer when he pretended to be incompetent.

    “In here, Kiragi.” Leo's reply was gentle as he called back from the study.

    The young archer entered the study. It was immaculate, as always, papers in perfectly neat stacks, tucked away in drawers, and sorted on bookshelves. They had an entire library's worth of books in their chambers, which made it almost cramped between the shelves on every wall. The mage was seated at a desk with his back to the door. There was another chair next to him, presumably for Takumi when they worked together, but it was empty. 

    “I have a question,” he began as his father turned around.

    “Oh?”

    Kiragi lowered his head, flushing a little. “I… I wanted to talk to both you and Dad, actually. Where is he?”

    “Takumi? He's at the archery range right now. He should be back in about seven minutes.”

    “Ok, I'll wait.” Kiragi was familiar enough with his parents and their seemingly telepathic bond that he wouldn't question the specificity of the number.

    Leo shifted in his seat so that he was looking directly at his son. The archer was red, amber eyes focused on the floor. His mouth was in a slight pout and his ash blond hair was messier than usual, as though he had run his fingers through it repeatedly. His general expression was… distress. 

    Whatever it was about which that Kiragi wanted to talk, its importance was likely.

 

    True to form, Takumi entered their chambers exactly seven minutes and twelve seconds later and shrugged off his jacket. The rest of his clothing was sweaty and grimy, and he knew that he smelled disgusting. 

    “Honey, I'm home!” he shouted, aware of how much his husband hated the phrase. Or possibly just the nickname. Hard to say. One way or another, Leo would give him an adorable indignant face and tell him off. Being scolded by Leo was typically cute, but Takumi had definitely seen his scary side. That would be the side he brought to the battlefield, the side that tore people apart with magical vines and trees.

    But to Takumi, he was mostly just cute.

    “Come in here!” Leo requested from the study. 

    “I'm gross,” he replied.

    “I know. Deal with it later.”

    Takumi furrowed his brow. Leo  _ hated  _ it when he walked around still stinky with sweat, still in his grimy workout clothes. Whatever he needed… well, it must have been important.

    The archer entered the room. Kiragi was in there, seated awkwardly on the floor, as though he didn't really want to sit at the desk. Or something along those lines. Not only that, his downturned gaze was one of sorrow, his amber eyes wet and lips in a pout. His arms were folded tight across his chest and he was hunched over a little.

    Takumi dropped to his knees and embraced his son from behind. “Kiragi!” he exclaimed, trying to cheer him up. He picked him up and put him in his lap after crossing his legs.

    “Hey, dad,” Kiragi greeted, sounding at least a little more cheerful than he had looked.

    “What's going on with my favorite youngest son?” 

    “Father and dad,” Kiragi mumbled, “I've got a problem.”

    “A problem?” Takumi questioned. “Hey, babe, come sit over here.” He patted the floor next to him.

    “Babe?” Leo protested as he obliged. “Takumi, we've talked about this.”

    “Whatever. Anyway, what's up?”

    Kiragi cuddled into the chest of his dad's noticeably damp shirt. “I… like someone,” he admitted.

    Adorable was the first word that came to mind. This was almost immediately replaced by Takumi's all-encompassing love and concern for his upset child.

    “Who is it?” Takumi pressed gently, squeezing Kiragi.

    “Uh… that's the problem.” Kiragi’s voice was raising in pitch in his nervousness.

    “What's the problem?”      

    “Uhh,” the archer began. “It’s Dwyer. But he… he doesn't want to hang out anymore. My room’s all clean so he has no reason to talk to me.”

    “Well, you can do other things.”

    “But you and father spent all your time bonding over the same thing! You never got sick of chess or reading or whatever,” Kiragi protested.

    “Well, no, but Leo  _ did  _ get sick of losing. He almost broke up with me when he realized how much smarter I am,” Takumi corrected, expression smug.

    “That… that is just simply not true,” Leo disagreed. “But just keep telling yourself that if you want to.”

    “I still wipe the floor with you in Shogi.”

    “And I consistently defeat you in chess.”

    Kiragi smiled at his fathers’ bickering. “So yeah, you always did the same stuff. But… what should  _ I  _ do?”

    Leo knitted his brow in thought. “Well… I'm afraid I don't know much about him. One of us could ask his mother, if you'd like.”

    Kiragi’s eyes widened. “No, don't tell her!”

    Takumi chuckled. “Don't worry, silly. I can get information out of her without telling her anything.”

    “Really? You'd do that?”

    Takumi ruffled his hair. “Of course.”

 

    “Hey!” Takumi greeted. He found the singer the day after his son mentioned his problem. She was on a balcony, leaning forward with an elbow on the railing as her silky blue hair shifted in the wind.

    “Oh, hello, Takumi,” she greeted, golden eyes meeting his as she turned toward him. “What can I do for you?”

    “Oh, nothing, really. I just wanted to talk.”

    She sighed. “Takumi, you know I'm not one for chatter. Neither are you. What do you really want?”

    He chuckled, cutting to the chase. “Well, you're not wrong. If you must know, I'm curious about Dwyer.”

    “Dwyer? What about him?”

    “What are his interests?”

    She frowned. “Takumi, what are you getting at?”

    He sighed. “Kiragi has a huge crush on Dwyer and wants help asking him out.” The prince remembered his promise, but… not an uncommon thing to reveal, parent to parent.

    Her frown turned to a smile. “That's adorable.” She paused. “He doesn't particularly like hanging out with people, though. I'm not sure how it could work. But I  _ will  _ help.”

    The archer grinned. “Great.”

 

    Azura entered her chambers. The setup was almost identical to that of Leo and Takumi's chambers, but it was decorated completely differently. The style was almost minimalist, as though the designer wanted to maximize space and light, sacrificing storage space for a more freeing environment.

    “Jakob,” she greeted. Her husband was seated on the white sofa, a book in hand and a cup of tea at his side.

    “Hello,” he replied, looking up at her. 

    “I need your help.”

    He set down his book and rose to his feet. “My help? What's going on?”

    “What does Dwyer like?” she asked. Whether he liked it or not, Dwyer took after his father, not his mother. Jakob was more likely to understand him, even if they seemed polar opposites.

    “Sleeping? Doing nothing?” he offered.

    She exhaled slowly. “That's not very useful. I'm wondering how he might bond with a person.”

    “I would say it depends. He has more patience for some people than others. He is unlikely to seek contact with anyone, but will usually respond if someone wants to speak with him.” Jakob paused. “Why do you ask?”

    Azura took a moment before answering. “Takumi says that Kiragi likes him. We're trying to set them up.” 

    Jakob furrowed his brow. “Do you really think that both of our sons are gay?”

    “I think it's a possibility. I mean, no problem, right?”

    “Of course there's not a problem. Corrin is gay,” Jakob stated, as if that were the deciding factor. Honestly, it might have been. “And he has children with his husband. How, I'm not quite sure. They never said.” He paused. “It just seems unlikely.”

    “Also, Shigure’s not gay,” she corrected. “He’s liked girls in the past.”

    Jakob placed a hand upon his wife's shoulder. “In any case, tell Takumi to tell his son to just interact with him. It will most likely work out. And if not, well, it's just a crush.”

    She scowled at him. “Jakob!” she scolded, but she was clearly not actually upset.

    He shrugged unapologetically.

 

    Eventually, the message was passed to Kiragi.  _ Great. Now I have  _ nothing _ to go off of. I have no idea what he likes, no idea what he'd want to do… jeez, for an admirer, I sure don't know much about him. _

    He could always ask Nina. It seemed like she knew everything about everyone, like no secrets were safe from her.

_ Heh, that sounds pretty cool when you think of it like that _ .

    Supposedly, many people thought of Nina as weird or shady. Kiragi didn't see that. She was out of the ordinary, sure, but so was everybody. Forrest was a boy that liked to wear girl’s clothing, Dwyer was the laziest  ~~ and hottest ~~  butler in history, Sophie and Avel together had six left feet, and Velouria collected trash. So what if Nina liked watching people and collecting information about them? It wasn't like she used it for anything untoward (probably).

    But, in any case, he probably shouldn't do that. That still seemed… sketchy.

    Hey, they were right. He should just talk to Dwyer, spend time with him, just try and be his  _ friend _ before doing anything else.

    His ‘play it cool’ plan went sour that very evening.

    Dwyer was walking through the hall, looking tired as ever, carrying a plate of cookies.

    “Hey, Dwyer!” Kiragi exclaimed, running up to him. Was that too loud? Too enthusiastic? He probably startled him… or something… Gods, why was he so nervous?

    “Yo,” he replied in his exhausted voice. 

    “How's it going? Can I have a cookie? They're way better than everyone else's!”

    Dwyer sighed. “I guess. And believe me, I know I'm the best.”

    Kiragi grinned. “Thanks, Dwyer! You're totally awesome!” He took a cookie. “So who’re these for?”

    “My mother. I'm trying to convince her that my cookies are better than father's.”

    The archer took a bite. “Well, don't worry. They so totally are!”

    “Yeah. I've already convinced her on coffee. Now I've just got tea, cookies, and a couple other pastries.”

    “Awesome! Do you wanna test out all your recipes on me? It'll be awesome and I'll be totally honest,” he offered, nearly bouncing with enthusiasm.

    “Actually, can you… can you give me some space?” Dwyer requested. “You're close… and really loud.”

    “Oh…” Yeah, he was definitely being uncool. He couldn't drive Dwyer away with his cheer, but he just felt so bubbly and warm inside whenever he was around him. He couldn't help it! “Oh, yeah, t-totally, I'll give you space…”

    “Good,” the butler mumbled, walking away.

    It was all the archer could do to avoid bursting into tears on the spot.

 

    “Dads!” Kiragi shouted, voice choked up a little. 

    Takumi whirled around. He looked as though he had just risen to his feet from a conversation with his son and retainer. The two had quickly bonded, and now he was occasionally roped into conversations regarding sewing, fashion, and other related topics. “Kiragi, what's going on?”

    “He doesn't like me!”

    “Dwyer?” Forrest questioned, looking up at his brother. He was currently sporting a frilly blue dress, white bows clipped into his carefully curled hair.

    “Yeah!” In his upset state, he had completely forgotten that he had never told his brother about his crush and that he probably should have denied it.

    “Nonsense,” the seamster disagreed. “He prefers you to most people. There are plenty of people with messy rooms, but he chose you.”

    “I had the _ messiest  _ room, though. And I'm a prince. All the other royalty had cleaner rooms.”

    Forrest crossed his arms. “Are you kidding me? Have you  _ seen  _ Velouria's room?”

    “Yeah, but…” Kiragi trailed off. “Ok, you might have a point.”

    “See? You're fine. Stop crying. You'll make dad cry.”

    Kiragi wiped away a tear and turned to his dad. At some point during their discussion, Oboro had made her way over to Takumi and was currently embracing him. 

    Takumi broke away from her and looked at Kiragi. “Are you feeling better?” He went over to his son and ruffled his hair.

    Kiragi giggled a little. “Dad, you're gonna mess up my hair.”

    Takumi lowered his hand. “Nonsense, silly. You're hair looks as cute as ever.”

    “Dad, you think I'm cute?”

    “Well, at least you've got  _ one  _ thing in common with your father.”

    “You're cute too, dad,” Forrest piped up.

    Takumi chuckled. “You think so? Well, I guess that means we're just a cute family.”

    Forrest smiled. “I guess it does.”

    “Anyway, I have faith in you, Kiragi. Go forth, and win Dwyer's heart” Takumi encouraged.

    Kiragi threw his arms around him. “Thanks, dad! You're the best!”

    “Well…”

    “Dad! Don't you dare start on that again! I already told you. Talk like that and I cry!” He punched him lightly in the abs.

    “Well, we can't have that. Let's just say that I love your father too much to say that I'm better than him in anything other than intelligence,” he suggested.

    “Ok, I can live with that. But you'll always be one of my top two favorite dads.”

    Takumi smiled. “You're so sweet. What did I do to deserve a son like you?” He glanced at Forrest. “C’mere, cutie.”

    Forrest joined the hug. “Dad, you're simply wonderful. And my father may not enjoy pet names, but you can call me cute anytime.”

    “Just because your father doesn't like pet names doesn't mean I don't use them.” He paused. “Now, Kiragi. Go forth with no fear.”

    Kiragi jumped after stepping away. “You got it, dad!” he exclaimed.

    “There's the cheer I like to hear.”

    Forrest smiled. “You'll succeed, Kiragi.”

    “Thanks, bro!” He ran out before Forrest could reply.

    The seamster grimaced. “That's one nickname I do  _ not  _ appreciate.”

 

    Kiragi approached Dwyer.  _ Remember, be quiet and respectful of his space. He didn't like how loud and close you were last time. _

__ “Hey, Dwyer,” he greeted, using his best inside voice.

    “Yo.” The butler did not look up from his coffee.

    “How's it going?”

    “Fine.”

    “So, uh-”

    “Taste this,” Dwyer interrupted, shoving a cup of coffee in his face.

_ Gods, I hate coffee.  _ “Oh, alright. Thanks.” He brought the cup to his lips and tipped it back. Hopefully the butler didn't notice that he never swallowed anything.

    “How is it?”

    Kiragi lowered the cup. “It's delicious, but a little hot.” Hopefully that would explain why there was no less coffee.

    “I see. My apologies. Anything specific you'd like to add?”

    “I'm sorry, I don't drink coffee much. My dad says it makes me hyper.”

    Dwyer took the cup from him. “Yeah, we don't want that. I'll test this out on someone else.”

_ Thank the gods.  _ “Alright.”

    “Why are you here?”

    “‘Cause I wanted to hang out with you,” Kiragi replied. 

    “... Why?”

    “‘Cause you're awesome! I really like y-hanging out with you!”  _ Gods, that was close. _

__ “You like me?”

    “Uh, well, yeah, I-I guess I like you, but uh, you know how I mean, right?”

    “Probably.” The butler paused. “Do you want to go out with me?”

_ Did he just… ask me out? Oh, gods, oh, gods… uh…  _ “Like… on a date? Like a romantic date?”

    Dwyer shrugged. “Yeah, that's what I meant.”

    “T-totally! That… that'd be great!”

    Dwyer gave him a tight smile. “Getting a little loud.”

    “S-sorry,” he apologized, lowering his voice.

    Dwyer chuckled. “I guess I'll have to get used to it, though.”

    Kiragi grinned. “I guess you will!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! Still accepting requests! If anyone has child unit requests, the list above will be the default parent units, so if you want different parents, just let me know!


	6. The Fall (Takumi and Oboro)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oboro is the first to see her lord falling, and the first to try to save him.

_ Something's wrong. _

__ She could see it in the way he spoke. She could see it in the way he yelled, the way he got in people's faces when he spoke to them.

    She could see it in his actions. She could see it in the way he grabbed people when he yelled at them, the way he avoided conversation.

    She could see it in his sleep. She could see it in the way he would wake up screaming nearly every night, the way he woke up with dark circles under his eyes.

_ I can see it, but I'm helpless. _

 

    The door creaked open. They were living with the Great Wall of Suzanoh, essentially the last line of defense against the advancing Nohrian army. Takumi's quarters were flanked by his retainers, and the three of them were far away from anyone else. Oboro suspected this was because he didn't want anyone else to hear his screams.

    She sat up. “Lord Takumi?”

    He advanced towards her wordlessly.

_ Maybe he's sleepwalking.  _ “Lord Takumi,” she repeated, this time a little louder.

    When he reached her side, she could see him a little better. He was in his nightclothes and his messy long hair was falling in his face as he stooped his head. His eyes were open, with deep bags under them, and he was shaking.

    He fell to his knees next to her bed. He made some indiscernible cry and a tear shone in the moonlight as it ran down his cheek. His breath came out in gasping sobs.

    “Lord Takumi!” she exclaimed.  _ What should I do. Should I touch him? Keep talking? Leave him alone? Get help? _

__ “Oboro,” he choked out. “There's… there's something wrong with me.”

    “What do you mean, milord?”

    He shook his head. “C-call me Takumi.”

    “Ok, Takumi,” she agreed.  _ Man, that's weird. But if he wants me to… _

__ “I… I need… I need to touch someone…” he mumbled, looking at her with pleading eyes.

    Without a second thought, she threw her arms around him. “Takumi, I'm here,” she assured him. “I'm here if you… if you want to talk.”

    He nodded. “I'd… I'd like that. Do you mind if I lie down?”

    She released him and scooted away to give him enough room. She pulled down the covers to help him get in. “Come on.”

    He lied down on the bed and she pulled the covers back up over them. He shifted to be closer to her and draped an arm over her chest. He nuzzled his face into her neck.

    Oboro wasn't sure why he lord was being so handsy, but it didn't bother her in the slightest. It was nice, or it would have been had he not been crying and essentially begging for… something.

    “I… there's something… it's like there's something inside of me and I can't get it out. Like something- or someone -is trying to take… control of me,” he explained.

    She linked a hand with his. “You can fight it,” she encouraged. “You'll be ok.”

    He shook his head. “No… no, I won't be ok. Their… whatever it is… it's winning.”

_ Oh, gods.  _ Was he… was someone trying to possess him? Was he sick and dying? Was he going insane? What was wrong with him?  _ Oh, gods. What do I do? _

__ “I'll help you. You'll be ok,” she repeated, though she wasn't sure that it was true. “You'll be ok.”

    “I- ah!” he cried, sitting up. His eye began glowing purple as he underwent violent muscle spasms. He screamed and arched his back.

    “Takumi!”  _ Is this… is this what he's talking about?  _

__ He grabbed at the blanket, balling his fists. He choked out, “I… I am going to kill Corrin!”

    Takumi had expressed similar sentiments in the past, but never so… violently. Was… was the person behind this feeding off of his emotions? Turning an emotional, loving person into an enraged, vicious killer?

    “Takumi,” she began, but before she could say anything more, he had fainted. 

_ I… I can heal him. I'll make this right. I can free him from this monster. _

__ She watched his chest rise and fall, breaths more even, as if he had been holding something in and, now that he had released it, he could breathe easy.

_ Oboro, do you see what you're up against? There's something inside of him, inside of his mind. How can you expect to combat this? _

_     I will do anything for him,  _ she vowed.  _ I live and die for him, for I love him more than anything in the world. _

_     But is it enough? _

__ She embraced him and held him while they slept.

 

    The next day, the Nohrian army attacked. She was placed above, past a gauntlet of warriors. She was one of the last lines of defense of her liege.

    She saw Hinata fall. Sweet, selfless Hinata, killed by the Nohrians. She saw him go limp, falling with the blade his liege once gave him clutched to his chest, as if it could protect him in death. 

    There would be time for grief another time.

    Until there wasn't. Enemies were upon her, Corrin leading the charge. Corrin, with her false promises of peace, with her treachery and destruction. 

    Corrin, the traitor princess.

    But it was some other person, a prince, perhaps, with magical trees and vines, that killed her. He had some smug smirk on his face, maybe because he was surprised that he could kill her, but more likely that he was another Nohrian that just enjoyed killing.

    As she laid limp on the ground and choked out her dying words, she knew that there was no one left to protect her lord from the monster within.


	7. Reality (Takumi, Oboro, and Hinata)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takumi confuses his dreams and reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I've been meaning to post a lot sooner, but I'm working on a particularly long story and I've got writer's block. See the notes at the end for details on how you can help me!

    There were people pounding at his door. They were demanding he let them in, let them invade his space to punish him, to ravish him and beat him and slash at his battered skin and kill him, to leave his limp body bloodied and bruised for his whole family to see, to see his weakness and defenselessness in the face of evil, evil that was scratching at his door.

    He curled further into his blankets, trying to hide from the reality of his fate, for soon they would burst through, ready to inflict irreparable damage upon his young body. He was trying, so, so hard not to cry, not to make a sound at all. Maybe they would think he wasn't there and leave.

    “Takumi!” a female voice called from the hall amidst the pounding against his door, the throbbing of his heart against his chest. “Lord Takumi, let me in!”

    He was tempted to shout that no, he would never allow the monsters into his room, but he knew that he had to be quiet. 

    “Lord Takumi!” she repeated, her voice somehow familiar. The monsters must have taken her, stolen her voice from the mouth of a friend. 

_ Why are they doing this? Why? Why me? Do they think I'm the weak link? Am I the weak link? _

__ Maybe they thought it was funny to torment the prince in the middle of the night, waking him up from a torturous dream into a frightening reality. Or maybe they just wanted to hurt him, knowing that he wasn't really necessary for anything, that he was just worthless dead weight that deserved to die, screaming in agony from the cruelty yet just nature of his fate. Because he really was worthless, wasn't he? The world would just be better off without him, wouldn't it? So maybe the people outside weren't monsters at all. Maybe they were former friends coming to end him, to end his pointless existence in a way that satisfied everyone. It would be easier to die. But… he didn't want to. He just didn't really want to continue living, and he knew that they were monsters because-because… his family loved him, right? They said that they loved him every day, but they might have been lying. They might have just been saying that to keep him at bay, keep all the problems he faced away from them, because they had better things to do than look after him. Or maybe they truly did love him, but they were tired of dealing with him. He wanted to scream, to let out all the agony and terror, because he was afraid of himself, of what he could do to himself, what he  _ would  _ do to himself.

    The pounding came to a complete stop, replaced by mumbles, exchanges between all those trying to assault him. They were plotting against him, against the obstacle of his door.

    Unless… unless they gave up, agreed to let go of their plans of torture and murder. No, that couldn't be it. They were dead set on him a moment ago. Why… 

    His throat was starting to hurt, his chest tightening and heart thudding against it. He was trying to hold it together, but… well, he could see the cracks in his resolve, like a sheet of glass around his heart that threatened to shatter at any moment, leaving the hot flesh open to harm and his soul weak and needy.

    He couldn't.

    He couldn't face everything in front of him. He couldn't handle the hand he'd been dealt. He couldn't… he couldn't survive without… without… what was he even missing? He was missing something, right? He couldn't just be… unless he just started out broken and empty, and every attempt to help him was just lost in him because he was beyond saving. He was…

    …he was lost. Would his family find him,  _ could  _ they find him? Or was he forever stranded, hiding behind a thick wooden door until he starves or meets his fate? A quick death would probably be preferable to that. Maybe it would be easier if he did the job. He was going to die anyway. It could just be soon and painless and by his hand, or the torture of the monsters outside. That would show them, if, when they bust through the door to kill him, he's already dead. 

    But then he remembered he couldn't get out of his bed. He was fused to it, one with it, chained by blankets in a cozy, soft ball. Well, his slow death would at least be warm and fuzzy, right? 

    No, if they got to him, they'd tear away the blankets first, leave him exposed to the cold air. Did they know how cold he got at night? Hopefully not, because leaving him to the frigid air was torture in and of itself. And they wanted that, right? They wanted him to suffer? Of course they did. Everyone did. He deserved to suffer in the cold, freezing as they mercilessly exacted his fate.

    Did he want that, too? It would be easier to be dead, wouldn't it? He could escape the sleeping and living nightmares, he could escape expectations and judgment, because the weak prince would be dead and no longer problematic.

    But… he wanted someone to save him, to care for him not just in retrospect. But he wanted to be free! There was a burden, but he was the burden and he was just scared, so, so scared and lonely. He wanted to scream and cry for help, but all the pounding in the world couldn't wake them up. So they wouldn't be saving him, saving him from the truth and pain of his miserable existence. They would just leave him, the victim at the mercy of these monsters, to die.

    They must have known when he had abandoned all hope, because in that moment they opened the door.

    He couldn't help himself. He couldn't stop himself. He let out a scream, tears welled up in his eyes, and he shuddered, his breath coming out in gasping sobs. He couldn't even bear to look at his future killers, so he just kept his head lowered, hiding in his cuddly prison. 

    The one in the front spoke again. “It's ok,” she reassured him. “You're completely safe, Lord Takumi.”

    He looked up at her, tears streaming down his cheeks as he shook with sobs. It was Oboro and Hinata in front of him, both looking at him with caring eyes. 

    He was so confused. Weren't there monsters? Did they kill them? Was he just insane and imagining things, imagining monsters that weren't there.

    What if they came back? What if the monsters had left but they were going to come back?

    “Close the door!” he urged.

    Hinata looked a little thrown off, but he did so without questioning him.

    “You're ok,” Oboro soothed, sitting down next to him. Hinata came over and joined them, so they were seated on either side of their master. Hinata began stroking his hair as Oboro repeated this, trying to quell his tears gently, silence his pain at once.

     He nuzzled into Hinata's hand, enjoying the contact with his retainer's rough palm. 

    They were here, ready to help him. Maybe he had hope. Or maybe he was going to die tomorrow. But for that moment, with his retainers on either side of him, comforting him with words and touch, he was ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the members of the Nohrian royal family is struggling with something. In your opinion, list how supportive the siblings (including Corrin) are from most to least.   
> This'll be a huge help. Thanks so much for reading! Your support means the world to me!


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